Magic Trix
by Marble Venus
Summary: They say the black veil is death. They lie. Behind the black veil lie the truth, the future, and the past. And only Trixie can go there and come out alive. But will Harry let her slip away? And does he really have a choice?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Biting her lip in concentration, Trixie O'Malley pressed a little harder. With a childish grin, she climbed down off the desk and ran to her room. Sister Catherine would be angry to find half the things on her desk glued to the ceiling, but she wouldn't be surprised. It wouldn't be the first time. It served the old hag right, anyways, for giving her lines to write. Looking at her, no one would take her to be a troublemaker. She was just too sweet-looking, with large blue eyes set in a heart-shaped face and framed with honey-gold curls, now pulled into twin pigtails. An angelically sweet visage behind which was a cunning intelligence and a deep love of mischief.

Glancing at the small purple clock next to her bed, she decided she had about twelve minutes to get to the bus. If she missed it, she'd miss the week's trip into London. She needed to stock up on supplies, so that wasn't an option. She wore a demure ankle-length skirt and a filmy white blouse that was tucked in. She went down to the bus with her head bowed just enough to make the nuns think she'd learned her lesson and was properly contrite. _Suckers,_ she thought as she boarded the bus. She sat in the back so as to be the last off. The other girls avoided her because all had suffered some indignity or another at her hands.

Ah, London. City of shadows, history, and, most importantly, people. The small group was dropped smack in the middle of it and told to be back on the bus in three hours' time. The usual.

It wasn't difficult to lose the other girls since they stuck together like a school of very vocal fish. Making sure no one she knew was in sight, Trixie stripped off the skirt and shirt, revealing a pair of faded capris and a silver tanktop. As she was stuffing the offending clothing into a large canvas tote bag, she noticed a young man who was looking downright uncomfortable. Poor thing. His platinum blond hair looked almost silver in the bright sunlight as she sauntered over to him. He noticed her and turned away self-consciously. She was only a few feet away and her eye caught something on his arm and she grabbed his wrist, pulling him closer.

"Kick-ass tattoo!" she said, admiring the design. It seemed to be a skull with a snake wound around and through it. "Very nice. Good workmanship."

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, pulling away from her and thrusting his arms though the sleeves of a denim jacket.

"Whatever for? If you're gonna get a tattoo, you might as well show it off. My name's Trixie, by the way."

"Draco Malfoy. Pleased to meet you."

"Likewise." They shook hands and Draco looked even more uncomfortable. "What's up?"

"Tell me…what angers your father most of all? I'm kind of looking for a birthday gift…"

A slow grin spread across Trixie's face. "That's easy enough. My dad sees me and he threatens to pop a blood vessel. Works every time. 'Course, your dad might actually like you…it's really a rather individual sort of question."

Draco looked her up and down appraisingly. "Very smart. So what're you here for?"

"In London? To buy some fake mice and snakes to freak out the nuns. And some stink bombs and bottle rockets. Wanna come with?"

"Sure." She noticed that his eyes were a few shades lighter than her own, more grey than blue. "But why don't you use _real_ mice and snakes?"

Trixie snorted. "I'd pity the mice. They'd go deaf from all the screaming. And Bob would be devastated if I got a snake. I do use real frogs, though. I catch them in the pond that's just behind the monastery."

"I've only got two questions; who is Bob and you have mentioned nuns and monasteries and I want to know why."

"Because my dad thought that the best way to turn a bad girl good was to put her in a super-Catholic boarding school run entirely by nuns and a money-hungry attorney. So I've devoted my time to making their lives a living hell. And Bob is my twelve-foot boa constrictor."

"Ah. So where are we going?"

"Right here," Trixie answered, stepping into a small shop titled "'Lil Hellraiser's Supply Closet."

The space was very cramped and it took Draco several tries to fit his lanky frame in the door, but Trixie moved though it like a pro, running her fingers lightly over this and that, finally selecting several items and taking them to the counter. Draco was content to stay by the door and simply watch her. The man behind the counter rang up her purchases and she grinned up at him. "I'd like rings, pendants, and earrings, please. Two sets of green, four of purple, and one of orange. Oh, and if you have any of those specialty pencil-shaped stink bombs, that would be nice too."

"Coming right up." He came back holding several plastic baggies and named the price. She paid and, stuffing everything in her tote bag, thanked the man and walked out of the store, hauling Draco behind her.

After a while they decided they were hungry and Draco bought them burgers and Trixie sprang for ice cream. About halfway though her sundae, Draco put down his spoon. She ignored the gesture to pause.

"You know, my father would never approve of me bringing your kind into the house."

"I fit into a kind? I didn't know that. Tell me, should I feel flattered?" Her own spoon fell neatly into the bowl.

"Well, yes. You should. See, I think you would be the perfect gift for my father's birthday."

"That so?"

"Yeah. So how'd you like to come to dinner at my house tomorrow night?"

Trixie raised a spoonful of ice cream in a mock toast. "It'd be my pleasure."

"Oh, no. the pleasure will be all mine."

They walked out of the ice cream parlor and Trixie pulled on her good-girl clothes again. They felt funny after the hours of freedom. Draco snagged her hand and she let him hold it. Why not. They were nearly on the nuns before he dropped her hand and approached the group's leader.

He brushed his lips gallantly over her hand. "Oh, Sister, forgive me, for I have sinned."

"I am not the one to go to," she answered stiffly.

"But you see, my sin lies in spending an afternoon with your beautiful charge without your permission. And now I would like your permission to bring her to dinner with my parents. Would tomorrow be acceptable to you?"

"God bless you, young man!" a younger nun exclaimed tearfully, clasping his hand in both her own. "You are welcome to this angel-faced hellion any time you want. You're such a sweet young man, she'll tear you apart."

Draco kept his eyes solemnly fixed on the nun's worried face as he said, "I will do my best to keep her under control." He followed up his words with a covert wink for Trixie.

**

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A/N: Hey, peoples. I love getting reviews. They make me write faster. And better.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

A horse-drawn carriage came to pick her up at six o'clock sharp. It was an old-world-elegant gesture that was slightly charming. Draco stepped out of it to escort her from the large building. He was dressed rather formally and Trixie was glad of the filmy dress that swished stylishly at her knees. A strand of pearls accented the graceful lines of her neck and her honeyed hair was pulled into a high knot. Draco offered her his arm and a grin. She smiled thinly through the coral lipstick and looped her arm through his. As they approached the antsy horses, the pulled him gently over to them

They were a well-matched chestnut pair, and stamped their hooves angrily as Trixie laid a hand on first one animal's forehead and then the other. They calmed at her touch and Draco tried not to gawk as she thanked the beasts with a smooth formality.

"I like horses," she said by way of excuse as she allowed him to help her in.

The ride took less than five minutes, but it was more than enough time for Trixie to become nervous. She didn't see the scenery they passed, and settled for staring blankly at her reflection on the glass, wondering what she'd gotten herself into. She was going to dinner with a man who she had met the day before. And for no reason other than to piss off his father. It was perfectly sound logic, and had her heart pounding in anticipation.

Draco's own father came to open her door. It could have been no one else, since the resemblance was uncanny. The differences were minor; Lucius's hair hung to his shoulder blades and his eyes were blue instead of grey. Other than that, he and his son were only kept from being identical by the span of years.

She gave a shy curtsy when he'd helped her down.

"You've brought home a good, wholesome girl," he said in disgust.

Trixie reacted to the sneer and the condescending tone. "Even the most tempting rose has thorns. Just because you can't see mine doesn't mean they're absent."

He conceded the point by tilting his head and instructed Draco to take her into the sitting room. Once they were out of earshot, she tugged on his sleeve to get his attention. "Draco…is your father wearing a dress?"

At her innocent question, he got that distinct look of somebody who was just knocked over the head with a blunt object. "Um…not exactly. Don't worry about it," he said, noting her embarrassed look. "We_ are_ a rather odd family." They were in a beautiful parlor and he escorted her to a chair. "Just sit right here and I'll go track down my parents."

Trixie gave a shacked gasp. "That's never –"

"Don't be afraid!"

"Stop being such a ninny. I'm not afraid." She slipped off the chair and moved closer to the gigantic snake curled up on an area rug in front of the fireplace. The great creature lifted its head. "She's so beautiful," Trixie said in an awed whisper as she met the hooded gaze. "You really are, you know." She slowly reached her hand towards the snake, stopping a few short inches from her muzzle. She flicked out her tongue, its forked tip just brushing Trixie's palm. "Yes, you see I won't hurt you. Is it permissible to touch you?" Very very slowly, Trixie laid one pink-tipped hand on the snake's wide, warm back.

"How is it that you touch her and live?" The slightly nasal voice came from an aesthetically thin, tall woman with a darker shade of blond hair than her son and husband.

"I'm just good with snakes, Mrs. Malfoy," Trixie said after scrambling to her feet. "I'm sorry for being so presumptuous, but it's not everyday you see such a beautiful animal in a home."

"Don't be sorry," she said in a tone that indicated the exact opposite. "We are just watching her for our master. Her name is Nagini."

Trixie kept herself from laughing only with effort. Had these people no concept of free will? She guessed not. But then, what did it matter. She was here to be a disappointment to Draco's father. And, if his frown was any indication, she was succeeding admirably.

"Dinner is served," Lucius announced and Narcissa flounced out of the room. Draco's smile was slightly off as she rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue at their retreating backs.

"Let's go," he said; not quite a response.

The dinner conversation was stilted and aggravating. The meal would have been delicious if the cook cared anything about cooking, which he or she obviously did not. Or maybe said cook simply did not like their employer. Towards the end of the meal Draco noticed his father becoming more and more agitated and Trixie pressing a hand to her left temple.

Finally she put down her fork, dabbed at her lips with an embroidered napkin, and looked Lucius in the eyes. "If you wanted to look into my mind, all you had to do was ask. You've been pretty subtle so far, I admit. But you were causing a good deal of pain towards the end, there. I never have liked having my mind read, you know. Something about being leeched from the inside sets my teeth on edge."

_How do I know?_ she asked herself. _I've never had anybody read my mind…_ She tried to think where the words had come from but encountered a blank.

"Alright then. I will ask your permission. May I poke around inside your mind?"

"No. No you may not."

"Are you scared of what I might find?"

_Yes. _"No. I just value my privacy"

"I've seen enough as it is," he said coldly before turning to his son. "She is a muggle."

"Yes."

"How dare you bring such filth into my house?"

He went on ranting, something about blood, preserving the race, disgracing the family.

Trixie heard none of it. _Filth. Abomination. Freak. _The cruel words stabbed her over and over, the voices of her father and Draco's mingling and blending into one venomous jeer. She wondered vaguely at why his father was grinning at him. And he was grinning back. She knew she was way out of her depth here, and was confused, hurt, and more than a little angry.

Then her eyes widened in horror. "I have to leave."

"You're not going anywhere,"

"You don't understand. I have to convince _him_ that I'm alright."

"Who is _he_?"

"_Move!_" She followed up her command by shoving Lucius out of her way and flying to the front door.

She flung it open but before she could move Nagini hurtled out, crashing her huge body into that of the equally huge snake now on the Malfoys' front lawn. The snakes broke apart and circled one another. Trixie didn't scream as she stepped in between them; her heart was clogging her throat. "No." The snakes stopped moving and Bob raised himself carefully off the ground until she was looking into his eyes. "You shouldn't have come," she told him sharply.

Behind her Draco gaped and his father seethed. Narcissa didn't deign to leave the table.

"I was doing fine on my own…We are leaving. I promise we won't stay longer than another week…I've suffered worse at the hands of my father. You know that…Don't. She was only defending her family." She placed a kiss on top of Bob's head as he dropped back to earth.

The air seemed to crackle with electricity as she turned on Nagini. "_You_," she hissed. "You never threaten my friends. You can do what you like with me. Here," she said, shoving her forearm into the serpent's face, "bite me. Go ahead. I don't care. But if you ever harm a scale on my friend's body, I will personally slit your throat and watch your tainted blood seep into the earth."

Trixie had a brief thought that this snake was not like a normal animal. Her thoughts were organized with a malicious bent. Then all thought was eclipsed by a white-hot slice of pain as Nagini's fangs sank into Trixie's wrist. A small bone or two snapped under the immense pressure. Her knees gave out and she collapsed, her snake's body cushioned her fall. She recovered her wits quickly, tearing two strips off the edge of her dress and tying one tightly just above the elbow and the other just below. She'd always found the double tourniquet to be more effective with snake bites.

Bob's thick coils were supporting her back and she placed a hand on the deadly head. "You know what to do, don't you? Get to it, then, darling!"

Draco ran up just as Bob was wrapping his thick body around Trixie's. "Get away from that thing! We have to get you to a hospital!"

"This 'thing' is my friend and I doubt you could get me to a hospital fast eno –"Her face was twisted in a grimace of pain as Bob began to squeeze. Thick, greenish liquid began seeping from the holes as the pressure of Bob's body forced it out. "Damn that hurts! Draco, you're turning green. Could you leave before you puke?" He shook his head. "Fine. Then bring me some bandages, please. I do hate losing blood."

"Make him stop, then!" It was Lucius who'd spoken, and she noted grimly that he wasn't willing to risk coming too close to her while she was under the giant snake's protection.

Trixie glared, but it was ruined when she winced. "He has to force all the poison from the wound. He'll release when nothing but blood pours out."

"How can you be so sure?"

She shrugged; a difficult feat considering the heavy body wound around her own. "He's done this before."

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**A/N: Big thanks to ravenclawroyalty and Ollie May for their lovely reviews. I love you both oodles. If anybosy else is reading...I really do enjoy reviews, and I will typically read your stuff, too. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

There were no bells to announce her arrival at the 'Lil Hellraiser's Supply Closet. She moved a step or two inward, blinking rapidly as she waited for her eyes to adjust to the dim light. When they had, the first thing she noticed was a pair of red-haired heads bent over something.

"Mark! Andy!" she squealed, flinging herself at the pair with the force of a missile. She planted a resounding smack on each of their cheeks before stepping back to take a look at them. Blushing crimson, she said, "Oops. Oh, gosh, I'm sorry. From the top you look like my own dear brothers."

They grinned at her and she shook her head. _Nobody _could be that perfectly, exactly identical. "Please forgive me. It was a very stupid mistake; my brothers wouldn't be caught dead in this place."

"We forgive you," they chorused, still grinning widely.

Trixie nodded and moved off to study the merchandise. When she turned back to look at the twins, she gave a frightened gasp and hurried forward to snatch something out of their hands. "Don't play with that! And if you do, then don't aim it at his eye!"

"What _are _these, anyways?" asked the one being aimed at.

"Can't you read? Amateurs. They're flame-free fireworks. Although, dousing them in water kinda ruins it. And thanks for the suggestion; they require a minimum of tampering."

"Tampering?"

"Yes. All you have to do is pull this little tab and they fly off and explode. With a few minor adjustments you can easily delay detonation by a few hours, long enough to be far away from the scene of the crime." She smiled as she picked up a box holding five hundred. "Timing is everything, you know."

She walked to the counter and bellowed "FRED!!" One of the twins jumped and she flashed him an amused grin. "Oh, please. Honestly, you act as if you've never seen a girl with a set of lungs before."

At that point a large, bald man shuffled into view. "You called, Trixie?"

"I did. I'm leaving tomorrow and I need to go out with a very loud bang, some slime, and bright lights."

"As usual," he noted blandly.

"Oh, shut up. Listen, I've got a problem."

"Did Sister Catherine confiscate something again?"

"Naw. I was bitten by a giant snake that turned out to be poisonous and now I've got my right wrist in a cast, and it's kinda hard to work around such a disability." She held up her arm as evidence.

"Good Lord, are you okay?"

Trixie snorted and replied, "That's a rhetorical question, right? Would I be here if I wasn't?" He nodded promptly. "Jerk. It's not that I want to further injure my wrist…but I really need to make stuff go boom, splat, and poof. And that's a bit hard to do one-handed."

"You shouldn't be making trouble if you're injured."

"But how? I'm _leaving_. I need to give them something to remember me by! And I was hoping you could provide some assistance…?"

"No. First off, anything you plan is probably more than simple fun. It's probably not only dangerous, but illegal, besides. And, to be honest, I don't think you are some one they would forget all that quickly."

"Hey!! You _know _that time was an accident. I only need a few hours worth of assistance. I can't do it alone. Do you realize how humiliating this is for me? I have, in my stay here, caused three heart attacks, made the entire school stink of skunk, twice, I might add, developed a glue that can tell time, bred a fire-spitting frog, causing four _more_ heart attacks, and now, when I've got to leave, I can't go out with a bang. Hell, I can't even go out with a sparkle." She gave a piteous whimper.

Fred wasn't impressed. "Not. Going. To. Happen. It sounds like you've done enough damage."

Trixie moaned and stamped her foot in pique, then planted her hands on her hips, wincing as her wrist moved. "Damn you, Fred. I'd hoped I could depend on you, but I knew better than to count on your assistance. I will do it all myself." As she was paying, the shop's door crashed inwards.

She didn't look up even as a pair of large hands grabbed her by the shoulders. "I didn't think I'd ever find you again," Draco breathed in her ear.

Trixie dislodged his hands and, taking her purchases up in one arm, turned around. "I wish you hadn't." He looked sweet, even caring, but she remembered the odd light in his eyes as his father cursed her to hell and back.

"I will find you wherever you go," he said firmly. She eluded the hand that reached to relieve her of her bags.

"What are you, some kind of stalker?" She moved to go around him and he grabbed hold of her free hand. She yanked it back with a low hiss to betray her pain. "Son of a bitch. That hurts, you know!"

He looked at her hand, the fingertips just visible beneath the too-long sleeves, and noticed that it was black and blue. Trixie stood still as he carefully pulled the sleeve up. "Oh, Christ." Her arm was black and blue on either side of the pristine white cast. "Oh, Christ," he said again.

She lowered the sleeve herself. "My torso's no better." Her words were bland, empty of any intonation.

"You didn't have to let –"

"It was either a few bruises or death. I prefer bruising. Which do you prefer, Draco?"

He didn't back away, though his face took on a strange, hard expression. "Of course, I prefer your safety above –"

"Save it."

Neither of them had noticed that the twins had moved to stand on either side of Draco. They'd heard the story and seen the bruises. Another reason to hate Malfoy.

"Accosting innocents, are we?"

Draco's lip curled in a sneer as he faced the intruders. "What? Did your parents send you out to sell your bodies for spare change?"

He never saw the fist that connected with his nose. It wasn't broken, but damned close.

Trixie looked down at him. "That hurt me more than it hurt you, I'm afraid. But I'd do it again in an instant." One of the twins took her purchases and thereby freed her left hand. She used it to cradle her wrist. "For a comment like that I should pummel you into the ground. The only reason I don't is because I don't want to hurt my wrist any more. But hey," here she grinned, "last time I couldn't even walk." She sobered. "If you must compare yourself with others, know that your mother's a coldhearted bitch, your father's an inconsiderate jackass, and you're fast following in their footsteps. And did I mention that your father wears a dress?"

Her expression taunted his, sneer for sneer. "You want an ego boost? Here's a freebie: my brothers are a lawyer, politician, and one doctor. I was an unexpected and unwelcome surprise. You can go ahead and gloat about your own superiority, but do it in my hearing and get decked again."

She took her packages and, with a smile for the helpful twin, walked out the door.

Fred and George Weasley looked down at Draco Malfoy and resisted laughter. "Leave her be now, Malfoy. This is neutral territory, but next time I doubt you'll be so lucky."

"Why should you care? She's a muggle!"

They looked at each other and grinned. "We like her," they said together, as though it were obvious. Then they left to follow the girl, leaving Draco still sitting on the floor.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Halfway to her favorite ice cream parlor, Trixie felt the bags and boxes being taken from her. She turned her head to the right and to the left, one red-haired young man on either side.

"Why, thanks," she said, a bit surprised. "Might I ask why you're helping me?"

"Introductions first, madam," said the one on the right. "We are Fred and George Weasley. I am George."

"And I'm Fred."

"Pleasure. Trixie O'Malley. Now, will you please tell me why –"

"Humor us, will ya?" George asked. "Right. You said your brothers were –"

"Pompous asses? They are."

"So what do _you _want to do with your life?"

"Make trouble," she answered promptly. The twins grinned and she rolled her eyes. "In a family with clout, that's not a good thing, I assure you!" She sighed and added to herself, "In fact, none of my traits are virtues." _Filth. Abomination. Freak. _Trixie shook her head to get rid of the threatening tears. "So are you going to tell me why you're helping me?"

"Making trouble is what we _do _do with our lives. And, taking your injury and your handling of Malfoy into account, we'd like to help you wreak havoc upon your school."

Trixie's eyes lit up with gratitude. "Would you really?"

"Of course."

"Ah, partners in crime. This calls for ice cream. We can discuss the plan of attack!"

They walked in and ordered and Trixie chose a table in the far corner, where she could watch the entire room and not be seen as easily. "We'll be doing this tomorrow morning."

"Why tomorrow?"

"Cuz Mark and Andy are picking me up tomorrow afternoon. Then it's off to my Uncle Jack in Italy."

"Don't your parents want to see you?" George asked, nearly spitting out a mouthful of sprinkles.

"My parents would rather pretend I didn't exist. It's just easier for them."

"Why?" Fred's ice cream was melting, and the blob slipped off his spoon to fall in a splash of chocolate to the tabletop.

"It doesn't matter."

"Oh, yes it does!"

Trixie frowned at his vehemence. "My parents have despised me since I was three years old," she said quietly. "The reason for it is between me and them."

"Tell me." Their eyes were hard on hers, both pairs hazel, neither willing to let her get out of their questioning.

She sighed. She would have to tell them. Or, show them, rather. After all, she would be gone in a week. Off the radar, and in the wild. "I will show you when we get to the school."

Their agreement was rather sullen as they followed her to the bus. Her classmates all began flirting simultaneously, right up until Trixie made it plain that these men were her-eyes-only. And all it took was a glare or two.

If Trixie was surprised at the nuns' acceptance of her new friends, she didn't show it. They let her take them up to her room unescorted, as well. She closed the door and leaned against it, closing her eyes in preparation for what she was about to do. She wondered if she was sane to do it, then decided it was irrelevant.

"Well, before I show you why my family hates me, I may as well introduce you to my best friend and partner in crime. Bob, come on out, darling, we've got visitors."

The giant snake uncurled himself from his resting place under her bed and moved closer to her feet. "Bob, these two are Fred and George," she nodded at the respective men. "Boys, this is Bob." She smiled and Bob retreated back under her bed.

Fear darkened her eyes as she stepped to the other end of the room. "And now, I suppose it's time for you to see what you'll be working with."

"You mean who."

"I mean a what." Her voice was taut, and she said no more as she turned her back on them and stripped off her shirt, the bruises showing clearly. Her bra followed and she crossed her arms in front of her chest before turning back to them, her head bowed. "My father told me I was not his daughter. And I know that he is right. This is why."

A pair of giant butterfly wings sprang from her back, the black and white pattern hurting eyes unprepared for such splendor. The pattern was that of a zebra swallowtail, and she raised hr head to look at them. Her eyes were green now, with slitted pupils, with scarcely a glimpse of white around the iris.

"Do they work?"

"I've never tried them. They appeared when I was three years old. My father cut them off with a butcher knife. I've kept them hidden for obvious reasons."

"So what are you?" The question came from George, and she turned her bright eyes to him.

"Search me. I'm obviously a changeling, but what kind and why I was rejected…I don't know. I should count myself lucky that my father hasn't sold me to a research facility yet."

Before she could say anything else, the door swung open. Trixie didn't have time to hide her wings or eyes. She whipped around. "Oh, God, Thomas!"

He stared at her and said with a touch of regret, "I'd hoped Dad was pulling my leg. Should have known he never lies. Mark, Andy, and Dr. Shirkwood are waiting downstairs. It'll be interesting to know what you really are."

"But, Thomas, you're my brother," she said beseechingly. "Please, don't do this to me!"

"You're no kin of mine!" he said harshly and grabbed her arm.

He hadn't even seen the twins, and only Trixie reacted when they pulled out their wands. She ducked, and her oldest brother got blasted. She straightened up very slowly.

"And what, exactly, are you?" she asked quietly.

"Wizards. Now grab what you need because we're leaving."

She was pulling on her clothes as George added, "We'll only have a few more minutes while he's passed out. Come on, Trixie, don't stare so. We'll take you to our mother's. She'll be glad of someone else to baby."

Not wasting another second, Trixie grabbed a small container of frog spawn and a few of her more favored inventions. Clothing didn't strike her as a priority. "Bob –"

"We'll come back for him, I promise," George said.

She nodded. "He can take care of himself," she agreed. Her wings were gone, but her cat's eyes remained as she said, "Can I say goodbye to my brothers?"

"If you must."

They escorted her downstairs, where she saw her brothers speaking with men in white coats. "I poke too soon, didn't I," she said oh-so-softly. Then she smirked; not taking any chances, were they?

"How much was he paid?"

Mark and Andy whipped around, looking her up and down, their eyes widening when they reached hers. They didn't plead ignorance. It was Andy who said, "Two hundred thousand for the information, the same after you're taken."

Trixie's answering smile held a wealth of sadness. "You know it wasn't enough," she said gently. "Not nearly enough." She stepped back to the twins. Fred held all of her things and George reached a hand out to her.

"Are you ready to go?" She nodded and laid her hand in his. "Right, then. Fred, you'll take care of this bunch?" He nodded, looking almost bored. "Bye, gents."

He winked out of sight, taking Trixie with him. Mark took and aggressive step forward. "Son of a bitch! Bring her back!"

"Not on your life." Fred kept his wand leveled at the group as he dumped a handful of candies in a conveniently empty dish. He performed a quick memory charm on the lot of them before following his brother.

Andy blinked, momentarily confused. He could have sworn that bowl was empty. But the brightly wrapped candies inside it looked mighty tempting…


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

George could feel her fear as she trembled like a leaf beside him. Fred was suddenly on her other side and she relaxed. For half a second. Then Molly Weasley came barreling out of the house and she clutched his hand convulsively.

"About time you came to visit! And you've even brought a nice young witch home. Your father will be so proud. I know I am!"

"Um…mum? She's not a witch."

She deflated visibly. "A muggle…"

"Not quite that, either." At his mother's obvious confusion, George tugged on Trixie's hand. "Show her."

"I am _not _going to strip in front of your mother." She glared daggers at him for even suggesting it.

"Why not?" The question came from Molly herself.

The woman looked completely sincere, but Trixie felt compelled to ask, "You wouldn't mind?" The chubby lady shook her head. "Fine then." She stripped off her shirt and crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Will you unhook my bra, please, George? I'll not take it off." He did and she closed her eyes as her wings sprang free of her control. The brothers moved away so as not to block their mother's view, and Trixie opened her too-wise, sad cat's-eyes.

"What are you, child?"

"A changeling, Mrs. Weasley. Naught but a changeling." She dashed away the tears that formed, disgusted with her lack of control.

"Her family sold her to some researchers," Fred said helpfully.

Trixie shot him a dirty look. "Yes. Your sons rescued me, I'm afraid, and decided to bring me here."

Molly looked delighted. "Right. Well, I see for once they thought something through. Come on in, dear, you must be famished."

In less than a second Trixie's body was completely normal and Molly took her hand, leading her into the house. And what a house! It looked as if it could fall apart at the littlest provocation. Trixie cleared her throat. "Mrs. Weasley –"

"My name is Molly. Please, use it."

"Alright then…Molly. Um…I have a pet snake." She tried not to react to her shocked expression. She hurried on to assure her, "He's very peaceful. I promise he won't hurt anybody. His name's Bob. I know he can be rather intimidating because of his size, but he's harmless."

"How – how big is he?"

"He's twelve feet long," Trixie said, dreading her response.

"You know, he's the one who caused the bruises on my body. He did so by saving my life. He was forcing the poison out, and so I owe my life to him."

Molly forced her surprise from her face and patted her hand reassuringly. "Your snake will be welcome here as long as he doesn't touch the chickens. He can eat the gnomes."

"Gnomes?" Trixie asked hopefully. "Really and truly real gnomes?"

"Yes. They're very annoying. Tell me, how did you meet my sons?"

"Well…let's just say that we have similar interests."

She stared at the almost angelic-looking girl walking next to her and then turned back to her sons. "In that case, take her things up to your old room and then go get the rest. As well as her snake. Are you hungry, dear?"

"My name is Trixie, ma'am, and we had ice cream no more than an hour ago. I'd like to see the room first, if you don't mind."

At that the twins rushed forward and, each taking one of her elbows, propelled her into the house, up a lot of steps, and into their old room. It was on the small side, and that was compounded by the amount of things that cluttered it. Cases of fireworks, things with rather large warning labels, a handful of what looked like colored, walking cotton balls, and various candies were all in stacks, piles, and drifts all over the room.

Trixie had walked ahead and turned to face them with teary eyes. "I love you," she told them sincerely.

"Those better be tears of joy," Fred warned. She nodded vigorously. "Well, good, then. You can play with anything you like in here…just don't eat anything you find…"

"At least, not until we come back," George amended with a grin. She agreed and they left, hoping to avoid getting eaten.

By the time they had come back to their room, the twins had made two trips; one to bring back the massive snake and this latest to bring the contents of Trixie's room to her. Now they put the things down in one corner and watched her in silence. She was sitting in the middle of the room, a jumble of metal pieces all around her, muttering angrily. She threw the screwdriver in a fit of anger.

George caught it and turned it in his hands. "What is this?"

"Useless piece of – what?" She looked up, noticing them for the first time. "Oh, that. A screwdriver."

"And what was that?" George waved a hand to indicate the rubble around her.

Trixie frowned fiercely at it. "Beats me. It threw a dart at me, though. And it hurt like a bitch, so I took it apart to see how it worked. Obviously, I failed."

She rubbed her rump (where the dart had hit) absently as Fred said, "Yes, well, that one was still in the experimental stage."

"You guys are awful. Now, then, I think you will need evidence that I am as talented as you." She found her jewelry box and set it on a conveniently close box of fireworks. "I don't wear jewelry, but have found it to be a perfect storage place for my concentrated glues. What makes my glues special is that they hold firm for a certain length of time, and then turn very brittle. Perfect for gluing things to ceilings." She pulled out three heavy rings. "See, they're color-coded by length of hold time. Orange is one week, green is two, and purple is three. Now, obviously, the stones are hollowed out, and I've got plenty of each color. Each stone contains one exact dose; the powder inside must be mixed with on half-cup of water and it will look weak, but I assure you it works. Have glued a chair to a ceiling before, but I have no doubt it could hold up a piano…if I only had some assistance in lifting it up there."

She placed the rings in George's palm and closed his hand over them. "Try it for yourselves. I suspect you have your own stirring rods. I don't think your mother will like you doing it in her house, though."

Fred sighed deeply. "She never has, you know."

"That's why we started our own joke shop," George added with a grin. "If this stuff works, we might ask you to collaborate with us on a few new projects."

"We'll see," she replied easily. "I'm glad you've brought me here. Really."

"Ah, yes." Fred looked uncomfortable in her cat's regard. "Well, there should be some beds under all this rubbish. Our dad should be home soon, and we'll be there to mediate."

"Mediate?"

"Yes. He loves all things muggle with a passion and he might smother you with all his attention. And I doubt he'll waste any time in asking his questions."

"Er…what's a muggle?"

"A non-magic person," George answered easily. "You're not one, obviously, but you were raised as one. So Dad'll be asking you about anything and everything that crosses his mind."

"Oh, that'll be wonderful! I love talking about how stuff works."

George grinned suddenly and cocked his head to the side, listening. "He's home! Let's go meet him, shall we?"

* * *

**A/N: Hey, my darling readers. And I know there's more of you than there are reviewers. And I forgive you. Maybe. Anyways, thanks for reading. You guys make my world go round. **


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

When the twins came to dinner the next evening it was to find their mother cooking and fondly looking at Trixie, who sat next to Arthur with a legal pad and a pen, gesticulating wildly in an attempt to be understood. Bob was in the garden, patiently waiting for a gnome to come out of hiding and Arthur was trying valiantly to understand Trixie's explanation of the visible light spectrum and waves in general. Trixie clicked her pen and put it down, frustrated that her diagrams had not been quite as helpful as she'd expected. The smell of something absolutely divine found its way to her nose and she sniffed appreciatively. She felt rather than heard her stomach grumble softly at her. She shook her head, trying to ignore the smell. The pen lay forgotten as she launched into another explanation.

"Okay. So a period is how long it takes for the wave to pass a single point, crest to crest. And frequency is how many crests can pass said point in a given amount of time. And," she turned her head and sniffed again, "I think that's it for today. Can we continue this tomorrow or sometime? Your wife is making me hungry and I want to see if she'll gimme a taste."

She smiled winningly at him and he rubbed his eyes. "Of course, Trixie. I'll need to study these further as it is."

Trixie looked up and saw Fred and George. Flashing them a welcoming grin, she eyes their magenta robes and, turning back to Arthur, asked, "Are you _sure_ they're not wearing dresses?"

He nodded patiently. "I am absolutely positive, Trixie. Boys, nice of you to come."

Trixie looked them over again and sighed deeply. "I would have made fun of you _so _bad if your parents hadn't started explaining things to me. I've been learning a lot more than I've been teaching, though you promised otherwise."

"We're sorry."

"Don't be. It's been absolutely wonderful. _And_ it's had the added bonus of keeping me from taking apart everything in the house. And I would have, too, if your parents hadn't started explaining things. In other words, it was magnificent." Her wings were furled in deference to the neatness of the house, but her eyes glowed a happy blue.

Molly bustled over to her sons, patting Trixie's hand on the way. "Sit down, sit down. You can talk after dinner." So they did, and made the proper comments at the food. And she had outdone herself with the food. The dinner finished off with a fig tart that melted in their mouths.

When dinner was over and only scraps littered the table the lady of the house herded them all into the living room for tea and scones. As she poured the tea, she said to Trixie, "Tell me, dear, is your name short for something?"

Trixie took a sip and said, "It's short for Trickster. It fits. The real babe's name was Samantha, but I'm obviously not her. I've been called Trixie since before I can remember, probably because I was always making trouble. I still do." She sank her teeth into a scone before she could reveal the fact that it hurt her to know that her parents hadn't even deemed her worthy of a name, but chose instead to call her by a title, no matter that it fit.

"That's true enough," Fred agreed. "We used your two-week glue on a chair in out house…among several other things."

"And?" she prompted, leaning forward in anticipation.

"Er…is there any way of loosening it? We've tried just about everything."

She laughed then, a full rich sound. "Not until the two weeks are up, or thereabouts. What did you glue that you want unglued so quick?"

Her voice held a mild curiosity tinged with laughter, but George looked downright uncomfortable. "You don't want to know."

"You likely don't. I've learned not to ask," Molly said. Her hands were steady as she put her teacup on the table and then she clasped them tightly in her lap. "Boys, I have something to tell you." That much was fairly obvious, since she seemed to be having issues with sitting still. "Your brother Charlie wrote to me today to tell me that he's coming for a visit in two weeks' time."

The reaction was wonderful to watch; two identical faces showed two different expressions – one of shock and one of indescribable joy.

"But I didn't see the mailman…"

"Owl post, dear," Molly explained with a patient smile.

Trixie sat up straighter. "Owls?"

Following her question, the entire family launched into an extensive discussion of just how it all worked. They even brought out their own ratty old owl. Trixie cooed over him for a few minutes, then asked more questions that set them off again. Once she decided she was sufficiently informed, she held up both hands.

"Okay. I think I've got it. Now…who's Charlie?"

George smiled and leaned back in his chair. "Charlie's our older brother. He's currently in Romania studying dragons."

"He's been over there for a long time now. He loves what he does, though he tends to get injured a lot," Fred added. Then he grinned, ruining any chance he had of being taken seriously.

Trixie shook her head in amazement. "Real dragons?" she asked hopefully.

Fred tweaked her nose and she batted his hand away. "He will explain all when he gets here," he promised. "But now, how about we go try out those wings of yours?"

"You mean it?"

"Would I lie to you?"

She nodded silently.

Arthur smiled at her. "I'd like to see if they work, myself," he said softly.

"That's settled then. Is it safe to fly in your back yard?"

"Safe enough," George said with a shrug, "if you don't fly too high."

"What happens then?"

"Then you'll get spotted by muggles and Dad'll get in trouble with the Ministry."

"Ohh...I get it. Wait…What Ministry?"

All the men groaned in unison. "We'll explain later."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Trixie eyed George's broom with distaste. It was a nice-looking thing, the handle highly polished and the tail neatly trimmed, but it was a _broom_. She gave a mental shrug. _To each his own_. Not giving herself time to think, she unfurled her wings through the slits that Molly had kindly cut in the shirt.

After a few seconds of her not doing anything, Fred got impatient. "Well? Fly!"

"I don't know how. I don't even know what muscles control the wings!"

"Oh…Well, take your time, then."

She closed her eyes to block out visual distractions and concentrated on her own body. One of her huge wings twitched. She grinned at the small victory and someone applauded. "I think I remember how I did that. Not sure I could do it again, though."

Her audience stayed mercifully silent. In another minute her other wing twitched, but she was not happy with that. In another few seconds she pivoted both wings, then one at a time. Her eyes flew open. "Oh," she breathed, "I remember."

She took a deep breath and launched herself into the sky, her wings catching the air just before she crashed to earth again. Quick as anything, the twins were astride their brooms and hovering protectively on either side of her. Her wings beat the air rhythmically and she changed the angle to rise higher. Fred and George rose with her.

After nearly knocking Fred off his broom, scraping her arm on a tree, and falling on a dragonfly, Trixie finally got the hang of flying. She could hover upright, but the actual flying was easier with her body parallel to the ground. It was near midnight by the time Arthur waved her down.

Her feet touched earth and she stumbled a bit before catching her balance. Fred's hand was gentle on her elbow as he steadied her. He frowned once she was in the kitchen, the light bright on her skin.

"The bruises…"

"Are all gone," Trixie confirmed. "Your mother was kind enough to give me some funky cream and they were gone within twenty minutes. She took care of my wrist, too." Her cat's eyes were a serious brown as she looked at Fred. "Your parents are wonderful people. I don't know how I'll ever be able to repay them."

"Don't feel too special," George said with a wide grin. "Our mother will take in anyone. Especially if they have no family." The twins exchanged a meaningful look.

"So I'm not the first?"

"Nope, and probably not the last, either."

"Speaking of which," Fred said to his brother, "have you heard from any of the kids to say when they'll be here?"

"Can't say that I have."

Just as Trixie was pouring herself a glass of water a huge owl flew in through the open window. She stifled a screech only with great effort. The bird landed on the countertop and hooted softly at Trixie. With a steady hand, she extended her glass to the snowy owl. The bird dipped its beak gracefully into the water.

"Well aren't you the most beautiful creature in all the world," Trixie said softly.

"Untie the letter," Fred said quietly from just behind her.

"Letter?"

"Yes."

Trixie cocked her head. "This is an example of owl post, isn't it?"

Fred nodded. "Her name's Hedwig."

She detached a letter from a politely raised leg and handed it to George. He scanned it quickly and gave a soft whoop. "Harry says they're all fine and will be here the day after tomorrow. Apparently, they've all broken up. Again."

"I'll tell Molly in the morning," Arthur said tiredly from a chair in the corner.

"Mr. Weasley, you need to get to bed. I'm sorry to have kept you up so late, but you have work tomorrow, don't you?"

"Yes. And it's not your fault I'm up this late. I usually am. Boys, you can go on home. Trixie and I will talk a bit. By the way, was it Harry who wrote the note?"

Fred nodded.

"Then I'll write back before going to bed."

"Good night, you two!"

"Yeah, sweet dreams." They were gone without another word.

Hedwig nudged Trixie's hand with her head and she stroked the soft feathers. "What do you want little girl?" She hooted in response. "You'd better ask Mr. Weasley, then."

"Call me Arthur." He was watching her through hooded eyes. "What does she want?"

"She's hungry and has a craving for biscuits."

"There's a pack on the third shelf in the cupboard on your left."

Trixie looked and took one out, putting the package back on the shelf. She broke it into pieces and fed them one by one to the owl. She hooted.

"You're welcome." She turned to Arthur again.

He signed a letter and sealed it. "Bring her over."

Trixie extended her forearm and Hedwig stepped onto it with great dignity. "Ooof! You're heavy!" She stumbled theatrically over to where Arthur sat. He attached the letter to her foot.

"Now you can let her go."

Trixie nuzzled the bird's head. "Go on to your master, sweetie. I'm sure I'll see you soon."

Hedwig launched herself from Trixie's arm and soared gracefully out the open window.

Arthur cleared his throat and Trixie turned back to him immediately. He felt a chill pass over his skin as he took in her too-big eyes, the pupils dilated so they looked completely black, the wide, striped wings behind her back, and the slightly sad expression on her face.

She was not human.

The thought was chilling, and yet he couldn't think of anything more human. She was stubborn and willful and so mature, but her soul was that of a wounded child. It was all there, written on her expressive face whenever she looked at his family.

None of his children had ever looked like that. They'd always known their family was there for them. Trixie had never had that security.

"Tell me about your family," he said softly.

She hopped up on the countertop and he watched as her wings dissolved in a flurry of golden dust and her eyes changed back to her ice-blue human form.

"My uncle Jack runs a vineyard in Italy. My aunt Gladys is a zoologist and travels the world. My uncle Nate runs an antiques shop in Wales. I've spent my entire life being circulated between those three guardians. I have three brothers. Thomas, the eldest, is a senator in Maryland. Mark and Andy are a doctor and a lawyer, respectively. When they took their vacations they'd typically take me along for the ride. I think it was their attempt to make it up to me for being such a disappointment. It didn't work, but I still treasured those vacations and have many good memories to show for it."

She gave a bitter little laugh. "Between my brothers and uncles and aunt, I've seen most of the world. I love them all so much. The kick of it is, they all pitied me because my parents couldn't stand me. And they didn't know why. That was always between my parents and myself."

"They're not your parents."

"I know that. It's kind of obvious. But I've been calling them such for my entire life. I've never called them anything else. I don't think I know how."

Arthur directed his question to the top of her bent head. "Why _do _your parents hate you? That is, when did it all begin?"

"I sprouted wings when I was three. My dad cut them off with a butcher knife." The force of her memory was so strong that Arthur felt a quick slice of pain in his own nonexistent wings. "Sorry," she murmured, and the pain was instantly gone, locked away inside of her.

"It's alright."

They sat in silence for a while and, when Trixie spoke, it was more to herself than to him.

"I don't think I was supposed to find my wings. And if I ever did, I wasn't supposed to know what to do with them."

"What makes you think that?"

"I don't know. That's the problem. Every time I attempt to trace back such thoughts to their source, I encounter a brick wall in my mind. I can't go around it and I can't see over it. He would be angry if he knew I was trying."

Arthur frowned. "Who?"

"Who what?"

"You said 'he would be angry.' Who did you mean?"

"No, I didn't." She raised her head to meet his eyes.

He read only confusion on her face. "You don't remember, do you?"

She shook her head miserably, tears glazing her eyes. "Memory is a fickle thing. But I've had more of those teeny little flashes in the last few days than ever before."

"Go on up to bed, child. You've given me a lot to think about."

Trixie trudged up the stairs and fell into Fred's old bed. Not even bothering to pull up the covers, she fell asleep immediately.

* * *

**A/N: Alright, kiddies. I've changed my mind. As valuable as reviews are, more friends on one very special sight is even better. So please go here: http://finalprophecy. proboards50. com/index. cgi (minus the spaces, naturally) and get Sorted. It'll be fin, I promise. AND don't forget to say that crazytalk refered you. I'll love you for always!!!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

When she woke up, Trixie went down to breakfast almost immediately. She knew that nearly everything in the house was enchanted in some fashion, but had yet to learn how or why or what. So, naturally, she was surprised when a painting bid her good morning. Arthur was already at work and Molly heaped her plate high with eggs and bacon.

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley."

"Call me Molly," she admonished gently.

"Alright, then. Thank you, Molly."

"You're welcome. I was thinking I'd show you my garden."

"Really? I love gardening. But I'm never in any one spot long enough to have one."

"Well, you're welcome to do what you want in mine."

Once outside Trixie released the illusion of humanity and hovered a foot above the ground, showing off. Molly clapped. Suddenly, Trixie dropped into a flower patch.

"Is it true your son's studying dragons?" Trixie asked, her voice slightly muffled.

"Yes. He loves his work."

"Did he start here, I wonder."

"What do you mean?"

Trixie rose slowly to her feet, carefully cupping something in her hands. She approached Molly slowly, her feet not touching the ground. Molly looked into her cupped hands and frowned. "But there's nothing there."

Trixie frowned and glared into what seemed empty space. "Show yourselves, mites. She's harmless. In fact, she's as kind-hearted as a person can get."

Before her eyes, Molly watched three miniscule dragons materialize in Trixie's hands. They watched her with whirling green eyes. One was orange, another scarlet, and the third yellow. They all had a ridge of spines along their backs, biggest in the middle and tapering to nothing at the tip of the tail and the base of the head. The red one had a horn on its snout.

Molly leaned closer and the yellow one reared back on its hind legs and braced its tiny paws on Trixie's fingertip, leaning forward to get a closer look. The dragon and Molly were nearly touching noses, the woman cross-eyed from trying to get a better look. Trixie laughed and the three looked back at her as though for permission. She nodded and, one by one, they curled up and went to sleep.

"What are they?"

"Snapdragons," Trixie answered as though it were obvious.

"I didn't know they existed."

"You did. You just didn't believe they did because you'd never seen them."

"Nobody has seen them that I know of. The last sighting was many centuries ago by an insane muggle."

"As you've witnessed, they are only seen if they wish it so. They aren't the dragons your son studies, I think. These are fae dragons. And they're dying out."

"Why?"

"Because there are too many pesticides and such in the air and on the ground. Plus, birds aren't exactly friendly to food sources."

"How do they reproduce?"

"They don't. Not at this age, anyways. They are born from snapdragon blossoms. There's about a one-in-a-hundred chance that a plant will carry one. The chances of them surviving, however, are far slimmer."

"Do they get any bigger?"

"If properly cared for, they can grow almost as long in body as your upper arm." A picture flashed in her mind of a high-born woman holding a regal-looking blue dragon on her forearm, the long tail used as an anchor. As quick as it appeared, it was gone, and Trixie could not track it down again. "But they only rarely survive that long."

The trio was snoring lightly and she smiled down at them. Their breath was light on the skin of her hands, and she said softly, "These three will survive. And they will grow sleek and healthy."

"Do they need any special care?" Molly asked.

"Just insects and attention."

She felt a light touch on her ankles and glanced down to meet the eyes of her snake. "Hello, Bob," she whispered, crouching down before him. She held out her hands, the drowsing dragons still in blissful repose. Bob flicked out his forked tongue, scenting the air around them. "Yes, my darling, they are but children and you are to be responsible for them along with me, aren't you my sweet pet?"

_You take too much on yourself_, his soft voice whispered, seeming to wrap around her mind.

"They're not going to be any trouble," she assured him. She poke aloud solely for Molly's benefit.

_You have enough to do._

"Like what?"

_Remembering where you came from, for instance._

"I will. Eventually. What do the gnomes taste like?"

_Mud._ She could feel the distaste in his voice and laughed.

"What did he say?"

"He said they tasted like mud. I think he likes it here."

_I do not._

"Well then eat rabbits." _Why ever not?_

_These people are not strong enough to protect you._

_But I have you._

_Damn it, I can't protect you in this form! I can't exactly wield a wand with no hands. _

Trixie's smile faltered. _A wand?_

_The surrounding population has been wearing off on me,_ he offered as an excuse.

_Oh…Well you've saved my life before, so don't sell yourself short._

She felt a tiny fang sink into her fingertip. "Ow! That hurts, you little rascal," she told the little yellow creature. To her amazement, they seemed to be growing before her eyes. They were already as long as her index finger and each stared at her with bright green eyes.

"You're growing rather fast, aren't you? How do you do it?" The orange one responded with a reproachful sniff. "Oh, right. I'd forgotten."

"What?"

"They want to be bigger for me. And, since they are fae dragons, they have more control over it. Don't overdo it, though!" she cautioned as, one by one they took flight. "Happy hunting!"

Molly smiled. "Come on. You can tell me what you want for dinner. I think the tour of the garden is done for today."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I'd never have met snapdragons." Her eyes went to where they were darting to and fro, catching bugs. "It's just as well. I have to ready the kids' rooms."

"Kids?"

"My two youngest, Ron and Ginny, are coming tomorrow with their friends, Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. I need to get their rooms ready for them."

"If you don't mind, I'll stay out here."

"Of course, dear. Have fun. But…if you don't mind, appear to them as human when they come."

"Why?"

Molly chose her words carefully. "I'm not sure how they'd react to the shock."

**

* * *

A/N: Yes, I found the time to put up a chapter on my birthday. I hope y'all enjoy it!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

"She won't take kindly to being controlled, Mum. Especially since her family's been doing it her entire life."

"I know that. But what else could I have done? They're not exactly the calmest bunch of kids around. They do have their reasons…but it's up to them to tell Trixie about them. And she's been through so much! Your brother will start following her around like a lost puppy, Hermione will immediately start showing off, and Ginny will be insanely jealous. Now, Harry's reaction is the most difficult to predict. I don't know what he would do if he knew she wasn't human. He might accept her, or he might decide she was sent by You-Know-Who."

Fred and George raised their eyebrows. They hadn't realized their mother was this perceptive.

"They'll figure out she's not a muggle."

"Now, they won't." She had come down the stairs in time to hear Fred's words. The dragonets were circling her head, looking almost too small to be believed, though they were now as long as her hand, from the nose to the tail. "You forget," she continued, "that I've been fooling people for most of my life. All my life since I've been Changed, anyways. Don't underestimate me, please."

Indeed, everybody at the table was amazed. She was as human as anybody they'd ever seen, and even the twins were hard-pressed to remember that she wasn't. With a wave of her hand, she commanded the dragons to leave. They did, soaring gracefully out the open window.

"They will remain outside and unseen. Nothing will ruin your reunion."

She placidly sat down to her breakfast, murmuring politely that everything was just divine.

"Arthur's gone to pick up the kids. Although I shouldn't really call them kids. They're about your age, Trixie, and they're very nice."

"How are you going to excuse my presence?"

"I'm going to tell them the truth, of course. My boys brought you home because you were being mistreated in yours. They will all be very pleased to meet you."

Trixie looked up, her eyes inexpressive. "I hope so," she said tonelessly as she continued eating.

Breakfast was finished in complete silence. Trixie said a quiet thanks and offered a quick smile to those still seated.

"What?"

"You have to understand that –"

"I understand perfectly. The wings and eyes can be rather shocking. I'm no fool. I will stay hidden until you tell me to do otherwise."

"Thank you."

"No problem. I think I'll go outside now for a while until they get here. Is that alright?"

Molly nodded. "I'll call you in when they do."

She inclined her heads in acceptance of the dictate, and slipped out the door to her friends. She did, after all, still have to name the dragonets.

Molly turned to her sons with a relieved smile. "You see, she took it well enough. Not nearly as bad as you expected."

The twins exchanged a look, knowing that Trixie would chafe at the restrictions and that, somehow, she would slip up. It may even be intentional. But it would happen. They would need to take her up to their house for a few stolen moments of freedom.

It was George who articulated their thoughts. "You can't just give her a taste of freedom and then take it back again. We'll take her up to visit our house soon. No one will try to control her there."

"Well, good. I'm sure that the kids will enjoy seeing where you live."

"You've missed the point completely. We'll be taking Trixie. No one else. How else will she be able to stretch her wings?"

"Go ahead. They'll know what she is before you have a chance, though," Molly predicted. "She doesn't exactly act human."

"The thing is, she does. She acts just like a muggle. But you may be right. One of them is bound to guess she isn't human."

"Oh, they'll figure it out," she said with an extraordinary amount of confidence.

George held up a finger. "Only one rule, mother. You can't help them along. They've got to be smart all by themselves."

Molly smiled. It was nice to see her sons worrying about the girl. "And they will. I am sure she will show them."

It was Fred's turn to smile knowingly. "No, she won't. She respects you too much. She will not show herself until you lift your demands from her shoulders. She knows how to keep her promises."

Molly smiled and George changed the subject. "Is there any news from the Order?"

"None, I'm afraid. He's been lying low, probably planning something nasty."

"Isn't he always," Fred observed wryly.

"I suspect he is more dangerous now than when he strikes out blindly at anything that moves. He will do a lot more damage. Right now he's only teasing the Ministry, showing them that he could do so much more if he so chose, but he does not choose to do it. He is baiting the Ministry, trying to lure it into a false move."

They knew their mother was right, but that didn't make the facts any easier to accept. "Dad's home," they sang out.

"Come help is with the baggage, boys!" Arthur called from the doorway.

Molly welcomed her children and their friends exuberantly, letting the men take care of the bags and trunks. There were fine lines of strain on all their faces, and she clucked gently as she looked them over one by one. She knew that their lives had recently suffered a toss-up and that none were currently dating any of the others.

Harry looked around the house that he had grown to love so well. Something was different. It was evident from Mrs. Weasley wringing her hands and Fred and George exchanging completely unreadable looks.

"So what is it?" he asked of the twins.

"What is what?" Fred parried.

"What's going on here? Something is definitely up. So are you going to tell me?"

"Well, we've brought home a girl." There was a sudden silence as all the house's occupants stared at George. He cleared his throat and continued. "She was being mistreated by her family so we brought her here. She is not a witch. Her name is Trixie O'Malley."

The silence stretched on as the new arrivals digested the information.

"How much does she know?" Harry finally asked.

"Not nearly enough," George answered. "She's only been here three days. And she only found out that magic existed the day we met her." That was stretching the truth, but no one would notice. No one could.

"Where _did_ you meet her?"

"In a joke shop."

Harry laughed, his first real one in months. "When can I meet this girl? And how far can she be trusted?"

"She is out in the garden," Molly said. "And, as for the part about trust…you can decide for yourself."

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**A/N: I will address this to my readers, because there's more of you than there are reviewers. That makes me sad, people. I enjoy commentary and I appreciate constructive criticism. it helps me become a better writer, okay? If y'all just sit there like green on frog butt, then I will end up ditching this story like so many others. **


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

The new arrivals were highly curious as to the new visitor and, though Harry let Molly lead the procession into the garden, he closely dogged her heels. About four feet behind the girl, he stopped dead in his tracks, Hermione walking into him and nearly throwing him into the girl. She sat cross-legged on the ground, a half-dozen garden gnomes arrayed in an arc in front of her. To all appearances she was telling them a fairy tale and they were listening with rapt attention.

"And so the faerie princess married the goblin and they lived happily ever after for many many years." She smiled benignly and the gnomes snapped out of their trance-like state and glared at the intruders before disappearing into a nearby bush.

Trixie got to her feet slowly and turned around to face the extended family. And nearly sat back down again. Her ice-blue gaze was met squarely by piercing green. She could tell he already suspected something. But it wasn't just her. He was nervous, on edge about something that had nothing to do with her. She forced her lips into a smile.

"You must be Harry Potter," she murmured politely.

The boy's eyes narrowed. "How did you guess?"

Her lips twitched in amusement. "Elementary, Watson." Her eyes flickered briefly to the others before returning to his. "Red hair runs in the family and you seem a bit too masculine to be a Hermione. And, since the only choice left to me is one Harry Potter, I figured that was you. Was I wrong?"

"And you are Trixie," he countered instead.

She grinned. "How did you guess?"

"Elementary, Watson. I had only one choice to make. Was I wrong?"

"You were right. And so was I."

Harry took another step forward and Trixie put up a slim hand to stop him. "You wouldn't want to step on Bob, would you?"

"Who's Bob?" he couldn't seem to break eye contact and wasn't sure he wanted to.

Trixie dragged her eyes from his, though it was surprisingly difficult. "Bob is my pet snake," she said, drawing his attention to the large serpent lying somnolent at his feet.

"You have a pet snake?" Harry asked quietly as he stepped over the snake. The move brought him within two inches of Trixie. She tilted her head back but did not move back. Up close she smelled of lilies and oak and he unconsciously moved closer. She refused to give ground. "Why do you have a pet snake?"

"It's a long story. Maybe I'll tell you some day."

Her voice was silky soft and hummed through his bones, her breath warm on his face. "Tell me." His voice was more than a little husky and she smiled.

The two of them were oblivious to their audience, though all of them knew they were witnessing something important. It was a battle of wills, and all of the females knew what Harry was subconsciously doing. He was playing the dominant male role to the hilt, but Trixie was far from submissive. Ginny stared at the pair and felt her heart fall to pieces yet again. Seeing the way he was looking at her, she was hard-pressed to think of a time when that same look had been directed at her. No, she reflected, he had not been a possessive boyfriend. She pushed her way through the assembled audience and slipped back inside. They wouldn't even notice her gone, she thought bitterly.

Molly felt her daughter push past her roughly. She'd have to ask her what was wrong. But later. Now she needed to know who was willing to back down. One of them had to.

"I will tell you," Trixie said, breaking the tense silence. "But this is neither the time nor place."

Harry refused to accept such a trite answer. "You will tell me now," he corrected.

Trixie hadn't thought they could get any closer without touching. He proved her wrong by crowding even closer. He was fast leaving her with two choices; back up r get bowled over. She stood her ground.

Fred and George felt the change immediately, as did everybody else, though only the twins recognized it for what it was. Trixie was getting angry. Though the air around her crackled with electricity, she never dropped her illusion of humanity.

"Do _not_ tell me what to do." She didn't step back; she stepped forward, forcing Harry to backpedal hurriedly. "Don't _ever _try to play the dominance card in my presence. I don't respond well to bossiness."

His eyes stayed locked with hers until he was yanked roughly off-balance by Ron. Trixie blinked. He truly was a wizard. How else could he have ensnared her attention so thoroughly?

She didn't spare him another glance as she turned a dazzling smile on Ron. "It's a pleasure to meet yet another Weasley. Your family has been incredibly good to me. I just hope I'll be able to pay them back." She extended a hand to him.

After a moment's hesitation, eh clasped it. Her smile turned mischievous. "I can see that good looks run in the family, too." The top edges of his ears turned red.

Ron was shoved rudely out of the way by a gangly girl with frizzy brown hair and snappy hazel eyes. She looked like she'd been electrocuted.

"And you would have to be the resident genius," Trixie said with a warm smile.

Hermione grinned back and preened a little. "That I would," she acknowledged gracefully.

Trixie's smile didn't waver. "I expect to learn a lot from you. Because, while you were learning spells, I was stuck with calculus." Only the twins noticed the faint twinge of sarcasm that colored her tone. They understood her need to be accepted for herself.

Hermione didn't.

"I'd be happy to let you pump me for information," she told Trixie loftily, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

"Be careful. I'll hold you to your words."

The warning had been given, though none recognized it for what it was. She would not be lied to. Not now. Her eyes must have shown her steely determination because Hermione took a step back. Trixie blinked placidly and smiled. Harry, not taking any chances, put a hand on his friend's shoulder.

Without the strange enchantment, Trixie found herself able to look at him, not just his eyes. A trim figure, beautifully crafted face, and jet-black hair that was too messy for words. He was absolutely divine.

As she examined him, he decided to return the favor. She was a blond, blue-eyed angel with a stubborn streak. She also had a slim waist, small, high breasts, and gently flared hips that topped a pair of very long legs. Divine.

Their perusals ended simultaneously and emeralds met ice once more. Neither knew what to expect from the other and neither knew what to say.

"You need not protect her from me. I suspect I'm not as evil as some you've met."

_She's a danger to the clan, Romia._ The sliver of memory was gone, but the words echoed in her mind.

"Or maybe I am." She walked forward until they were nearly touching. "It's your decision, Harry. Tell me, am I evil?"

He looked into her illusory eyes and came to a decision. "No."


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Hey people!! I am SOOOOO sorry it's taken me this frigging long to update. But I was on vacation and then I had exams!!! My last one was yesterday, so here's my chapter just for you gys!! My darling, patient readers, I promise you another chapter in another day or two...depends on how busy I am!**

**_ENJOY!!!!!_**

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**Chapter 11**

Trixie was sitting in a fat green armchair, her legs tucked under her, cradling a mug of hot chocolate in her hands. She was listening with rapt attention to Hermione's long-winded explanation of Hogwarts history. A smile flickered around her lips but never quite lit on them. Hermione waved her wand to refill her own mug of hot chocolate. She took a hasty sip and launched into a description of the Forbidden Forest, complete with a list of its occupants. She told Trixie about the moody, stargazing centaurs. At the mention of them, Trixie leaned forward but didn't interrupt. She waited patiently until Hermione paused to take a breath. She held up her hand to signal a pause.

"There are centaurs in the forest?"

"Yes, but they're very unfriendly to intruders."

Trixie looked at her as though she were crazy.

Hermione smiled in response. "And they make no sense."

"But they read the stars. They know so very much!!"

"Maybe, but they won't part with the information. They talk in riddles."

Trixie digested the information, her eyes restlessly searching the room for an answer of some sort, which she didn't find. "Maybe they need to be answered in riddles," she breathed, almost to herself. She suddenly felt the wildest urge to meet them.

"I wouldn't try," Hermione said grimly. "They tend to be violent to humans." She missed Trixie's wry smile.

Harry didn't. But he did have to restrain a yelp when Ron laid a hand on his shoulder.

"They are very nice to look at, aren't they?" Harry nodded before he could stop himself. Ron chuckled. "But you'll never get her to notice you by staring at her from around a corner. Come on. Let's go outside and fly around a bit."

The two friends mounted their brooms and took off into the sky. Both, however, remembered the danger of being seen and so stayed relatively low.

"How many horcruxes remain?" Ron asked quietly.

"Two. The snake and one other. I still don't know what it is, though," Harry said, going into a lazy barrel roll.

Ron wisely changed the topic of conversation. "The twins and Dad are at work."

"So?"

"Mom's gone shopping."

Harry was a bit more irritated. "So what?"

"So we're home alone. Free o do whatever we want." His voice hummed with anticipation.

"And what do you want to do?" Harry asked, his mind elsewhere.

"Me? I want to see Hermione in a bikini. And – what a miracle – wish granted."

Harry angled his broom downward. Indeed, Trixie and Hermione were lying on a large blanket, sunglasses hiding their eyes. It was a very nice view. He whistled. Trixie blew him a kiss, Hermione following suit.

"Your sister's locked herself in her tower," he said, getting back to the business of flying.

"The green-eyed monster has a hold of her," Ron answered idly.

"I've never been called a monster before, but I guess there's a first time for everything."

"Not you, Harry. She's jealous of Trixie. It's really obvious."

"Why would she be jealous of Trixie?"

"Jeez, you can be dense sometimes. We all saw how you were looking at her. And how she was looking right back."

Harry's brow furrowed in confusion. "But we're broken up."

Ron muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "dense as bricks." He patted Harry's head condescendingly. "That doesn't mean she's over you." He flew ahead before Harry could think of a reply.

It didn't take him more than a second to catch up. He remained speechless, however. How was he supposed to reply? Ginny understood why they couldn't be together, didn't she? But then, any relationship with Trixie would have to be over before it began. He chanced a look down. She and Hermione appeared to have become fast friends. It was strange, considering that Hermione was not an extrovert; far from it, in fact. And yet, there they were, chatting up a storm, both girls seemingly at ease. By mutual agreement, the three friends had decided to avoid mention of Lord Voldemort or anything related to him; this was their vacation and they were not going to et him spoil it. It may have been juvenile, but they needed a break.

Making a quick decision, Harry went into a dive. He pulled out at the last second and dropped to the ground next to Trixie. At the angle at which he stood, the sun cast a golden halo around his head.

Trixie grinned up at him. "How nice of you to drop in," she murmured.

"Anything for a glimpse of your fair face, maiden." He swept her a chivalrous bow just as Ron stepped onto the ground next to Hermione.

"Why don't you boys go strip and then come tan with us? We won't bite. Well, she won't bite. I'm not making any promises about myself." Trixie's grin widened as she watched their retreating backsides.

When they came back the girls sat up and removed their sunglasses. Speedos looked good on very few people, and Ron and Harry were two of those people. Hermione mouthed silent thanks to Trixie and that one decided it was the proper time for her to let out a wolf whistle.

Ron collapsed on the blanket next to Hermione, where she'd scooted closer to Trixie to make room. That left only the space next to Trixie for Harry. She had a sneaking suspicion that it was planned and raised an eyebrow. Hermione winked and put her sunglasses back on, snuggling up to Ron despite the heat. Harry lay down next to her and she closed her eyes, savoring his nearness. He smelled good, too. She could see a freckled face peering out of an upstairs window. Said face was glaring. Trixie smiled in response and raised one hand, folded into a rude gesture.

She and Harry were welded together from shoulder to knee, and neither seemed to mind. Trixie's lids drooped in contentment but flew open again when a slight weight landed on her chest. A quick glance told her she wasn't the only one staring at the small red dragon. They were also staring at her as though she'd sprouted wings. The thought was very depressing.

She had no choice; she met the whirling green eyes of the scarlet dragonet. It was a little male and she decided on his name then and there.

"Hello, Cortez," she said softly.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Well, I have officially hit and passed the 1000 hits mark and am very proud of myself. Even though most of those hits don't bother to review. It's nice to know I'm somewhat loved anyways. **

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**Chapter 12**

The little dragon blinked at her. He was twice as big as he was the morning before, and seemed twice as cheeky.

He cocked his tiny head to the side. "Hello, Trixie. I thank you for the name. I like it."

"You can talk." She licked her lips. "How can you talk?"

He blew a puff of smoke at her. She sneezed. "It's magic."

"Figures. This is the last time I'm getting involved with faerie."

Cortez warbled the draconic equivalent of a laugh. "You can't really help yourself, can you?" he asked slyly.

Trixie brushed him off and he flew away only to return and perch on her nose. She was cross-eyed as she sat up. His small wings whirred madly as he dug his claws into her nose to keep his balance. It was difficult to glare cross-eyed, but Trixie made the attempt.

"I'm not here to annoy you," Cortez said. "I know you asked us to stay out of sight, but I had to come."

"You are about to be murdered," she answered calmly.

"Kill me later. Bob's about to be attacked and he sent me here. He says he can't hold her off for much longer."

Trixie sprang to her feet, dislodging the dragonet. Harry was up, too, but she ignored him. "Can't hold who off? Where are they?"

She was already moving forward, drawn by her snake's distress. Trixie cursed herself for a fool. She should have felt it, but was too absorbed in the body next to hers.

"He said it was the snake from before. The one that bit you."

"What? Did she track me down for another try?" She didn't expect an answer and didn't get one.

The three friends rushed after her, not knowing why they did but knowing, somehow, that she would need support. They stopped several feet behind her as she whistled for stillness.

"Nagini!" she called out clearly. The snake turned to face her, hooded eyes unreadable. "Leave my friend alone. As I recall, we've had this discussion. I won. Don't be a sore loser."

_I'm not here for you_, she hissed in response. Harry made no move to indicate he understood.

"Who, then?"

_Harry Potter._

"You can't have him, either."

_Who's to stop me? You?_ Her words rankled.

"Yes, me. I succeeded in protecting my friend last time, didn't I?"

_You should have died from my bite._

"But I didn't."

_It was nothing but luck._

"Don't lie to yourself," Trixie said tiredly. "Leave now."

_I can't. _There was something akin to fear in her voice.

Trixie sat down on the ground and drew the deadly head into her lap. "Why not?" she asked gently. Harry moved forward and she waved him back. "Why not?" she repeated.

_Because my master commanded me to kill Harry Potter._

Trixie ran a hand lightly down her back. "Do you want to kill him?"

_I have to. _

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to. No one can make you." Trixie's voice was soothing and the tension went out of the snake's sinuous body. Harry didn't relax at all.

_My master can._

"Who is your master?"

_Lord Voldemort. _From her tone, Trixie guessed that he was a well-known figure. Good for him.

"I've never heard of him, but it doesn't matter. You don't have to obey. You don't have to commit murder if you don't want to."

_I have no choice._

"We all have choices. Even if we have to die to make them."

The snake raised her head and Trixie let her see her eyes and the honesty shining through them. _You've made difficult choices. _

"Many times," Trixie answered before rehumanizing her eyes.

Nagini's tone was stronger as she said, _Say it again. I want to remember your word until my dying day. _

Trixie smiled and placed a kiss on top of her head. "We all have choices. Even if we have to die to make them," she whispered.

_You are right. And I choose freedom. _

Before Trixie could even think to react, she turned around and sank her fangs into her own body. Trixie jumped as though shot.

"Bob!"

_Do not interfere in what you do not understand._

"I understand that you're dying. I won't let you!"

_Would you take away my choice?_

Trixie was caught and knew it. "I would not."

With a strength of will few possess, Nagini hauled her already weak body out of Trixie's lap. _Go away. Do not watch me die._

"No…" A silent tear slipped down her cheek.

_It's too late to help me. You know it, child._

"You made sure of it," Trixie whispered harshly.

Her tears flowed freely now and Harry pulled her gently to her feet and into his arms. He held her as she sobbed helplessly into his chest. He would ask her later how she made the snake understand her without speaking her language. Trixie cried as though her soul had been ripped to shreds as the last vestiges of life fled the snake's body.

She tried to pull back but Harry responded by tightening his arms around her and she was again flush with his muscled torso, her face pressed against bronzed skin wet with her own tears. He held her until she ran out of tears and only the aftershock hiccups shook her body. She struggled to catch a breath.

"She would have killed you," Trixie whispered against his chest.

"I know," he whispered back and then buried his face in her hair.

She raised red-rimmed eyes to search his face. "How?"

"I am a parselmouth. The better question is, how did you understand her?"

"What's a parselmouth?"

"Someone who can talk to snakes. It's a rare gift."

"Oh. Wait, you mean you can't talk to any other animals?"

"No. Can you?"

Trixie grinned and nodded. "Of course."

Harry's eyes narrowed and he stepped away from her. "Prove it," he said coolly.

Trixie's eyes darkened dangerously. "All right." She would call an animal he would not be able to deny. She would call Hedwig.

As if on cue, the owl swooped down onto Trixie's shoulder. Trixie raised a hand to pet her downy white head. Talons dug into her bare skin but she didn't flinch.

"How did you do that?"

"I called her," she answered simply.

"She's never come to me."

"Have you ever tried asking her to?"

"No."

"Do it, then."

"Come here, Hedwig!"

Trixie kept her peace even as the bird hesitated. Then she launched herself forward, straight to Harry's shoulder. She left several deep cuts in her wake.

"You made her come to me!"

"She went because you called," Trixie countered gently. "And now, I think I'll go finish tanning."

The three friends watched her move proudly away, sunglasses back in place. She turned back. "We will bury her this evening."

Harry didn't like the commanding note in her voice. "What do you mean by 'we'?"

"I'll do it myself, if you refuse." She turned her head forward again, effectively dismissing him and his friends.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Hey peoples!!! Listen, I have some good advice for you. You oughta read a few other stories. They are just incredible and you really should. The writers are** **ssjrice and** **devotedtodreams and the stories are _A Potion_ and _Silver & Silence_, respectively. Please read them and review, even if you don't review mine. These gals rock really hard. **

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Chapter 13

Dinner was an exercise in patience and peace-keeping for Molly Weasley. After smoothly explaining the presence of a dead snake in her yard, Trixie had disappeared into her room, where she stayed until called down to dinner. Now, she and Harry were pointedly ignoring each other, and Ron and Hermione were both morosely silent. The only one who seemed happy with the situation was Ginny. She chattered happily and made sure her fingers brushed Harry's each time he asked her to pass something. Arthur was worried, and Molly felt exactly the same. She wished the twins had come to dinner.

More than that, she wished she hadn't asked Trixie to hide herself. The girl kept her eyes on her plate, though she'd only picked at the food on it. She put down her fork and looked Molly straight in the eyes.

"Thank you for dinner. It was excellent. I'm gone to bury Nagini, now."

"Wait a few minutes and I'll help you," Arthur said.

She flashed him a smile. "Thank you," she said, "but if you don't mind, I'll get started without you. I'd just like a few moments alone with her."

Arthur nodded. "I'll be out in a little bit, then."

Trixie slipped out of the house without once glancing back. She strode quickly to the place she'd decided to bury the snake. There was a shovel waiting for her and she set to work.

When Arthur got up from the table, everybody else followed suit, though he pretended to ignore them. He took a second shovel from the garden shed and went to help Trixie.

Even though it was relatively bright out, he still had to rub his eyes to make sure he wasn't seeing things. Trixie was plying shovel to ground and, next to her, a handful of garden gnomes were busily throwing up clods of dirt.

Trixie turned to grin up at him, brushing a curl out of her face and leaving a smudge of dirt in its place. "They wanted to help," she offered by way of an excuse. The gnomes didn't even look up.

Arthur shrugged and began digging.

Harry managed to pull Mrs. Weasley away from the others and said, "So what is she?"

"What do you mean?"

"That snake was sent by Voldemort to kill me. After talking to Trixie, she turned on herself."

Molly's face registered shock. "She told me that the snake was dying when it arrived and that it happened to finish the business here."

"I know," Harry said grimly. "Apparently, she survived a bite from that snake. As I recall, your husband very nearly didn't."

"You recall correctly. Bob forced the poison from her body. When she arrived here, she was a mass of bruises, with her wrist in a cast."

He frowned. "She didn't mention that. The point remains, though, that she spoke to the snake. More importantly, she spoke to the snake in English."

"She is a talented girl," Molly confirmed.

"My owl flew to her when she called."

"Very talented."

"That is not an answer. Tell me what she is."

"It's up to her to show you who she is. I foolishly asked her to be human for your benefit, though I guessed you'd figure out she wasn't. I will revoke my request, but it's up to her what she will do with her freedom."

Harry looked up to see Arthur and Trixie carrying the body to its final resting place. It was quickly covered over with dirt and Trixie walked up to say good night to Molly, ignoring him completely. She hugged both of the elder Weasleys and then stepped back.

"I'll stay out here for a while, if you don't mind."

Molly nodded. "You can grab some blankets if you'd like."

Trixie grinned weakly. "I won't stay out here the whole night."

Molly pulled her aside while Arthur herded everybody else inside the house. "I beg you, child, forgive me. Don't hide any more."

"There is nothing to forgive. I will carry out this charade until I deem it done. Ti would serve no purpose for me to drop the illusion of humanity."

"Good night, Trixie." On her way to her room, she felt Harry brush past her in his invisibility cloak. "Be careful," she called to him.

"I will," answered his disembodied voice. "Good night, Mrs. Weasley."

He slipped silently out the door and nearly stepped on Bob again. "I'm here to keep her safe," he hissed to the beautiful serpent.

_That is my job,_ he hissed in response and moved quickly to his mistress. She sat cross-legged in front of a bunch of garden gnomes.

Harry felt guilty for watching her but didn't turn away. She ran a long-fingered hand down Bob's wide back and Harry shivered as though it were his own.

"You've been a wonderful help, thank you," she whispered to the assembled gnomes. "I don't know what I would have done without you. What would you like in thanks?"

What looked like the group's matriarch stood up. "We would like a story and something to remember you by."

A smile touched her lips and Harry moved closer. She slipped a silver ring from her finger and handed it to the tiny female. "May it bring you joy. But what makes you think I'll be leaving any time soon?"

The gnome slipped ht erring onto her hand, wearing it like a bracelet. "Your kind is transient," she explained.

"But maybe I am different?"

"You would have to be different," came the pragmatic answer.

"For once in my life I'd like to be like everybody else."

"It's not in the cards for you, dearie, so you'd best move on."

"How can you know that? How can you know anything about me?"

"One needs only to spend a little time with you to know the truth of my words." Harry found himself silently agreeing. "So are you going to tell us a story or will you sit there and complain about your fate?"

"I don't believe in fate. And I will tell you the story of Cinderella."

And she did, weaving the plot with the ease of a professional storyteller. Her voice was warm and rich and Harry found himself scooting closer. She didn't simply recite the story, but told it with hundreds of her own embellishments and adjustments. Harry knew the story but still found himself hanging on her every word. She told the story not only with her voice but with her hands as well, and he was enchanted by the graceful motions of her long fingers. The gnomes were as enthralled as he.

After a while, he began to feel as though her were floating on a warm cloud and his eyes drifted shut. Her soft voice cradling his soul, he slumped to the ground, the invisibility cloak slipping from his face.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

The first light of dawn was just seeping over the horizon when Harry opened his eyes. He was staring at his invisibility cloak, folded neatly next to his head. A thin blanket covered him and he sat up, pushing it back. Trixie lay just feet away, cradled in the thick coils of her snake. The gnomes were out of sight, but he could see the slight indentations where they'd slept next to her. Three tiny dragons were arrayed on her belly and winked out of sight when he approached.

"Oh, Trixie," he whispered as he bent down and lifted her into his arms.

He carried her into the house, where Arthur was already up and making coffee. He smiled at Harry, who said, "She said she'd come back in."

Arthur nodded. "And she did."

"She did?"

He nodded again. "To get you a blanket." Harry cursed tenderly at the girl in his arms. "Go get her to bed. She needs what sleep she can get."

With a quick nod, Harry carried her to the twins' room. His heart clenched when he laid eyes on her bed. It looked like it had been made by a distracted child; sloppy, uneven, and only half-finished. He laid her gently on the rumpled sheets and tucked her in. he could feel a funny little possessive kick in his chest and knew that he'd felt something like it for Ginny. But where he hadn't _wanted _to let Ginny go, he knew that he _wouldn't_ let Trixie go. He couldn't. She would be his. She just didn't know it yet.

Trixie woke feeling warm and safe. She kept her eyes closed to better savor the sensation. Someone had tucked her in. Funny. She'd never been tucked in before. It felt good. Her eyes still closed, she slowly became aware of somebody crying their heart out. She knew who it was and knew that it was up to her to put the broken heart at ease.

With a sigh for her loss, Trixie wrenched herself from the warm cocoon of her bedding and pulled on a faded pair of jeans and a shirt with two slits in the back. She cast a longing look down the stairs, where breakfast would be served, and then moved on, stopping in front of Ginny's door. She rapped her knuckles lightly against the wood.

"Can I come in?"

"No!"

Trixie ignored the choked command and walked in anyways. Ginny looked at her with red-rimmed eyes that narrowed immediately. Trixie closed the girl's door and leaned against it.

"How about we start over?" she suggested. "I'm Trixie O'Malley."

"Ginny Weasley."

They didn't shake hands.

"Good. It's about time we were properly introduced. Now we can get down to the why of it. Why have you refused to speak to me – to even meet me?" Ginny remained stubbornly silent and Trixie's eyes softened. "I see. You're jealous, aren't you? Do you honestly think Harry could be interested in me?" Her tone was incredulous and made Ginny take notice. "He wouldn't, so you mustn't worry."

"Why not?"

Trixie smiled, a cool, detached smile. "Because I am not quite human."

At Ginny's look of heartfelt disbelief, she dropped all pretense of humanity. Her madly striped wings formed a striking background for her slim frame and her wide eyes were mirror-dark in pain.

"I am here because my father sold me to a research facility and your kind-hearted brothers dumped me in your mother's lap." She met the eyes of her would-be rival. "So you see, I am no threat to you. Harry would not want me. Now you know why."

Without another word she opened the door and walked down the hall, completely human once more. Ginny watched her walk down the stairs and her soft heart would not let her stay put. She rushed after her.

"Trixie, wait!"

At the bottom of the stairs she turned around just in time to catch the body that hurtled into hers. Ginny wrapped her arms around her and, after a long moment, felt Trixie's arms slip around her and squeeze back. They stood there for several minutes, just holding each other. Neither cried or said a word. Somehow they were beyond both forms of expression. They pulled back simultaneously and it was Trixie who found her voice first.

"Let's go eat. Bouts of emotion make me hungry."

Ginny laughed gratefully. "Me, too."

Molly watched the girls carefully after they'd come to breakfast together. They had clearly leaped some sort of hurdle but weren't quite friends. But it was progress, at least.

Trixie called in the dragons and was rewarded by Ginny's delighted squeal. She introduced the red one as Cortez, and said she hadn't yet named the other two.

"Why Cortez?" Ginny asked as the little yellow one rubber her head against her knuckle. She tentatively rubbed the tiny head and grinned when she leaned into the touch.

"Because Cortez was a Spanish explorer who was also very bossy, rude, and very outspoken." She smiled at the little yellow dragon. "Will Ginny be your mistress now?"

"Yes. Unless you choose to keep me," the little female answered with great dignity.

"I keep no one. The three of you choose your own masters, or the lack of them. I would not stand in the way of any of your decisions."

Whirling green eyes turned to Ginny. "I choose you."

"Really?" she breathed. Then she turned to Trixie. "Thank you."

"What for? I didn't do anything."

Ginny smiled down at the dragonet that was now fast asleep in the crook of her elbow. "You gave them their freedom."

"No I didn't. You can't give away something you've never owned."

The orange one looked at her friends and then up at Trixie. "Will you be my mistress?" she asked cautiously.

"If you'd like, little one." Trixie waited until she nodded. "Then I will call you Isabella, after the Spanish queen. She ruled beautifully and kindly, and even bossed Cortez." The dragonet preened and, at some unseen cue, they all left by way of open window.

Ginny stared after them. "Now that they're gone, I was wondering if you could tell me what they are and why they can talk."

Trixie grinned and said, "Snapdragons. And they talk because they choose to do so." At the younger girl's quizzical expression, she launched into a lengthier discussion. To her amusement, Ginny asked nearly the same questions as her mother. "And they're about half their full size now," Trixie concluded.

"Okay." Ginny took a few moments to mull over the information. "So do your wings work?"

Unable to follow the girl's logic, Trixie nodded. "They work."

"Good. Come on into the living room and you can tell me about your life," she said, scooting her chair back from the table and waiting for Trixie to do likewise.

"Are you sure you want to hear it?"

"Of course I do. Why wouldn't I?"

"There's really nothing interesting to tell."

"But you'll tell me anyways." The words were a clear command.

Trixie laughed. "Yes."

Ginny nodded in satisfaction. "So there's really no problem, is there?"

Shaking with laughter at her autocratic manner, Trixie followed her to the living room, preparing to tell the story of her life to yet another Weasley.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

"It was a little bitty cobra, but still venomous as all hell. So I called up the nearest constrictor and begged it to save me. That's how I met Bob. It was rather painful, but I am alive."

Harry decided that this was a good time to interrupt her and walked blithely into the living room. Ginny and Trixie looked up at him and he blinked a few times to make sure he wasn't seeing things. No, they were both there, looking at him expectantly.

"Morning, girls. Trixie, do you want to come flying with me?" He inclined his head at the Firebolt in his hand.

Trixie stared blankly at the broom and back at him. "I've never flown on a broom and I don't intend to start. Thanks for the offer, though."

"Are you afraid of heights?"

"Not at all."

"I won't let you fall," he promised.

"I believe you…but I still won't go."

"Do you not trust me?"

"Not particularly," she answered with a slight smile for his question.

"I'd like to get to know you better. Please come fly with me."

"You can sit down and talk to me, like Ginny's done."

"I do my best thinking in the air," he answered testily.

"In that case you can go fly alone. You don't need help with thinking, I hope?"

It was hurting her to be so cool and blunt with him, but it was obvious that Ginny still loved him, and Trixie would not stand in her way. Especially not now that they'd made peace with one another. No, Ginny could have her man. Her expression was detached and cool, though her stomach rebelled and her lungs ached from holding in a sigh.

"Not good enough." Harry shook his head to emphasize the words and a lock of hair fell onto his forehead. Trixie brushed it back almost reflexively. The feel of her fingertips was feather light and gone too soon. "You can give a better excuse. I need your help in thinking some things through."

"You are mistaken. I gave no excuse. I merely stated a fact. I will not go with you. You may stay or you may leave, but I'll not go."

She pressed her lips tight and tightened her hands' grip on the couch cushions. Ginny was no fool, though. She saw that Harry was determined to take Trixie flying and that Trixie was just as determined to stay put. She could also see that Trixie's determination was for her sake.

"Go."

Trixie started at Ginny's soft command. She shook her head, denying the younger girl's perception. "I won't."

"You will. He wants you and you want him. It's all over between us. I won't stand in your way."

"He doesn't want me, Ginny. You know that as well as I."

"But he does."

Trixie leaped to her feet, a battle gleam sparkling in her eyes. Ginny did the same and they faced off, hands on hips. "Does not," Trixie insisted firmly.

"Does to."

"Does not."

They were so caught up in their argument that they completely forgot about Harry's presence in the room. Harry didn't want to interrupt them; not yet anyway. The little dragon Trixie had named Cortez flew into the room and soared a few lazy circles around the girls before landing on Harry's shoulder.

"Are they arguing about you, boy?"

Harry tried not to look too shocked and nodded. "Yep."

Cortez snorted, a tiny puff of smoke emerging from the vicinity of his snout and dissipating almost immediately. "Then shouldn't you have a say?"

"You're right!" Harry said in a shocked tone.

"I'm always right," Cortez snarled lightly. Then he was gone.

A shrill whistle gained the girls' attention. They stared at him, mouths open in half-shout. "I want Trixie," Harry said succinctly.

"No one asked you," They said together and got back to their fight.

Trixie realized the import of his words first, Ginny's epiphany only a moment behind. They exchanged a quick glance and then went back to staring blankly at him. It amused him vastly to see Trixie at a loss for words.

Ginny forced a brave, weak smile onto her face. "I told you so."

Shaking her head, Trixie sat back down. "He may want me, but he doesn't want _me_. He can't."

"He could if he knew," Ginny said pragmatically.

"But he doesn't so there."

"You could always show him and let him decide for himself."

"Don't you see that I can't? I don't want to show him what I am and see the revulsion on his face or, even worse, the pity. Think you I didn't see it in your eyes as well?"

Harry stepped between them, his back to Ginny. Trixie stood up and faced him proudly. "Whatever you show me will not change my mind." He was firm in his belief; she was not like the hypnotic veela – her attraction was of a human sort.

"Really," she whispered cynically.

In an instant his field of vision was filled with vibrant bands of black and white that framed Trixie, his eyes trapped by cat's-eyes brown with worry. The flashy background moved and shifted and he took a step back so he could take it all in. they were wings; huge, zebra striped, fully mobile butterfly wings. Harry could see that her jaw was clenched tightly to keep her lips from trembling. She actually cared what he thought. It was humbling to think that he could matter to this glorious creature before him.

Trixie watched him carefully, but didn't see even a trace of disgust or pity. His face conveyed shock, yes, but there was a bit of admiration behind it. For the first time in her life, Trixie felt beautiful. However, it could have been a simple trick of the light.

"Well?" she demanded testily.

Harry met her eyes again, careful to keep his expression neutral. "Now will you come flying with me?"

Confusion and pain warred in her eyes as she cast an apologetic look to Ginny. That one inclined her head in acquiescence. She wanted Harry to be happy. Trixie turned back to Harry, only to be speared on emeralds.

"Yes," she said, the one word holding too much meaning.


End file.
